Open Your Heart
by childliketendencies
Summary: One-shot: In the aftermath of a terrible encounter Finn finds his absolution


**Disclaimer:** The characters are all property of Ryan Murphy's show "Glee" on FOX. I just add little bits.

_Additional Notes:_ My first one-shot. It's following right after the argument between Burt, Finn and Kurt during the "Theatricality" episode (1x20). Originally I'd intended to write it a bit differently but the characters demanded a happy end, I think, so something entirely different came of it. Hope you like it!

A jarring musical bell ringing was what broke her concentration once more.

Sucking in some air and noisily releasing it again to ease the annoyance she felt at this, Rachel stood frozen in mid-motion at the barré, listening to the sound of steps that would announce someone was going to meet the caller at the door – but none came. The house was eerily quiet when it shouldn't have been. At least it meant she'd been working hard enough for a while, if she hadn't even noticed her dad leaving.

Waiting another moment, she hoped whoever had called would go away again – and realised she was even holding her breath, as if the sound of her breathing alone was going to alert the caller to her presence. But the bell rang again – twice, almost angrily, demanding a response.

Groaning, she turned on the spot, freeing her leg from its position on the barré as she did, and she spun off in a series of pirouettes that marked the ending of Laurey's dream dance. Grabbing a towel from a chair as she passed it by the door, she hastily wiped her face with it then threw it across her shoulder. When she passed the mirror in the hallway, a quick glance made her lose the spring in her step that she suddenly didn't know how it had got there in the first place: her face looked anything but presentable, even if it had to be at least half an hour since she'd stopped crying. She'd been in a strange kind of funk ever since she'd come home from school; when she'd got all teary-eyed sitting over her math homework for no apparent reason she'd decided she needed some distraction, so she'd gone up to her attic room and started going through her usual steps for working of stress and trouble. Crying through the first run-throughs hadn't worked so well but the work-out did what it was supposed to do and had calmed her.

The bell rung once more and it startled her out of her reverie. Who was this? She turned away from the mirror, her annoyance once more back in place. But as she crossed the last few feet to the door, first a loud bump, then a weird scraping noise against the outside of the door made her heart beat in sudden fear. Had someone thrown something against it? Cautiously, she peeked through the spy-hole in the door, but could see nothing.

She remained where she was, frozen at the door, unsure what to do – whether it was safe to open it and see what had been left for her out there. Tina had told her and the other girls from Glee club about Karofsky and Azemio harassing her and Kurt – now Rachel wondered if those two were up to something bigger than just threatening kids at school. The silence in the empty house suddenly felt weird, terrifying even.

Then she heard new noises from outside – a gasp, a low thud and then the unmistakable noise of quiet crying that went straight to her heart. Whatever was out there – or whoever – wasn't any danger to her. And slowly, she put her hand to the door handle, and peered out of the crack opening up before her at the person she knew had to be slumped against the door on the ground.

It was Finn.

For a long moment it seemed she had lost all capability to think. The discovery stunned her so completely. She'd never seen him cry before – and finding him doing just that at her doorstep, in such a manner, totally threw her out of balance. Something stirred inside her, something she hadn't felt for a while, and instead of fighting it she was incapable of doing anything against it. Instantly, her heart seized up with worry, made it overflow with the sudden need to be close to him, comfort him. But weeks' worth of keeping him at a distance played havoc with her instincts. Every remembered ounce of pain he'd put her through in the past now fought the urge to kneel down, put her arms around him and hold him. It was making her head spin.

"Finn?" was all she managed to croak out, finally.

The boy at her feet twitched violently, then froze, trying to hide his face and the fact that he was crying. For a moment she thought he was going to get up and run, when his hands went up and his whole body jerked forward, but he only got as far as to his knees when all energy seemed to go out of him and he simply slumped back against the door that she was still holding on to. She had to hold on to it to keep it from slamming inwards under his weight, and that little bit of exertion brought her back to her senses.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, realising a second later how lame that must sound. She saw him wince, and immediately feared that he thought she was lashing out at him, so she hastily added, "I mean…. What's wrong?"

His head came up, but he still wouldn't look at her – he stared at his own hands instead. When he finally spoke, his voice was so thickly laced with pain that it made her shiver. "I … didn't have anywhere else… to go to." A slight turn of his head, and he stole a glance at her without meeting her eyes. His face showed clearly how much he was fighting for some semblance of control over it; his chin puckered and trembled, the corner of his mouth that she could see twitched and all in all it looked pretty pitiful. "Anyone else…" he added, looking back out in front of him, sounding so terribly forlorn that once more she was overcome by the urge to pull him close.

Instead, she knelt down beside him, after grabbing her key and pulling the door closed behind her. Her hands – all too eager to reach out and touch him – she pushed underneath her legs, pinning them there so they couldn't do something she felt more afraid of than anything at this point. So she knelt there, and waited, hoping he'd say something more, but nothing came for a long time. Just sitting there next to her seemed to calm him, though. When she stole a glance at him after staring into space for a while, wondering what on earth was going on, she found his head leaned back against the door, his eyes closed.

As if he'd felt her eyes on him, he suddenly spoke, his voice a bare whisper. "I'm sorry Rach… I thought you weren't home. When no one answered the door, I just – just couldn't hold it in any longer."

For a moment he wanted to go ahead and tell her that it'd felt somehow safe, that by walking up the path to her house, taking the stairs up her porch and then standing in front of her door he'd felt that he'd reached his sanctuary, but some instinct warned him off. He didn't want to alienate her any further – it was going to be difficult enough, once she heard what he'd done.

For the last hour every thought, every feeling, every fibre of his being had been in a state of shock, of horror at his own actions. The more he'd thought about it, the worse it'd got. He'd been walking all this time, blindly, trying to get as far away as he possibly could, and involuntarily his feet had brought him to her. He needed her – now more than ever, but he was terribly afraid that telling her anything would sever that last teetering hold they still had on each other. There wasn't anything that she could do or say that he could not forgive her for – but she'd long ceased to have that much forgiveness in her heart when it came to his mistakes. Her heart belonged to someone else now, and never had that fact made itself more felt than at this moment; for all their physical closeness they could not be any more apart, the connection they had both had before all but shrunk and withered to this thing made out of lies and fear of hurting each other. They'd been left with a friendship that was so very fragile he was afraid to breathe around her for fear of saying the wrong thing or making a wrong move.

Suddenly he wanted to get away; he shouldn't have allowed himself to come here, to consider her as the one to dump his problems on. What was left of their relationship couldn't survive if she'd find out what he'd done, how he'd behaved. Burt's words still rang in his ears, but the disappointment in the older man's accusations had long since been dwarfed by his own disappointment, his shock, his horror at his behaviour. If Rachel heard… no, he couldn't tell her.

He opened his mouth to speak, to tell her he had to go, and put his hand down to the ground to push himself up – but before he'd moved more than an inch, her hand reached out, her fingers grasping his arm tightly.

"Don't go!"

His head turned to her, in surprise, but all she could see was the fear in his eyes. The fear that she'd caused. What had they come to if he was too afraid to talk to her? They'd been friends once, been able to talk to each other, confide in each other; no matter what, he'd always managed to cheer her up when she was down, and vice versa. She knew how he felt about her but she hadn't allowed herself to acknowledge it, fearful herself of once again being hurt if she should be wrong. If he should be wrong. But the boy next to her now was no longer the same as the one who had broken up with her. She'd known that boy then. This one, though – she didn't know him really, anymore. And it was her own fault. She'd pushed him away, lied to him, hurt him, manipulated him – and apparently, broken his heart. She no longer knew what was on his mind; she'd pulled herself out of his life until nothing had remained but their attendance at Glee rehearsals.

A part of her was afraid - afraid that this was all about them. That he had come to her now because he wanted to talk about them, plead with her for another chance. She feared that more than anything – he had no idea how much he still affected her. How much…

… how much her heart still belonged to him.

It was that which had made her reach out, finally, when watching him sitting like that, so obviously hurting, had eroded her resolve. She'd not been able to stand it – her head kept saying one thing, her heart something totally different. It must've been her heart which had felt his fear long before it entered his eyes, long before she saw it in them. It had to have been her heart which had pushed her own fear aside - which had reacted to his need.

And now that she felt the chilling warmth of his skin underneath her fingers, it almost got too much to bear. They hadn't touched for so long that the mere contact made her skin tingle. But it seemed more than that. She could feel the beating pulse of his heart alongside his, and perhaps it was truly that she was a little psychic or something – but suddenly she knew she had nothing to fear from this – from him. Her heart was safe – he hadn't come to talk about them, this wasn't about her; yet at the same time, as she looked into his eyes and saw his own fear, his surprise at her touch, she knew his heart was truly hers, if only she wanted it.

For a moment the knowledge made her sublimely happy - then she remembered what had come between them in the first place: Jesse. As that thought threatened to bring her reeling back to that other reality she'd been hiding behind, she drowned it out for now. Finn was here, Finn needed her. No matter what else had come in between them, they could at least be friends again. All awkwardness she could push aside for now. She didn't have to deal with that until later.

It was a strange bubble inside her head that Finn seemed to share, at least for now.

Feeling strangely elated still, she let go of his arm; he hadn't made another move to leave but just to be safe she went on all fours and crawled over until she could sit down facing him. He'd pulled up his legs again – if he wanted to sit more comfortably he'd have to stretch them out one on each side of her. She pried his fingers from his knees, and took his hands into hers – he couldn't keep his legs pulled up for long and obliged her by doing as she'd intended. Now if he was going to try to run off, he'd have to push her aside first and she knew he wasn't going to do that.

"Rachel…" he attempted to say, the plea in his voice unmistakable. He had no idea what had come over her, all of a sudden – he dared not hope for anything. The look in her eyes just then had been unreadable – but some part of him had seen something in them that told them he'd been right in wanting to leave.

"No, you're not going anywhere," she told him in that voice of hers. "Finn, look at me!"

He did. And lost himself in her eyes.

"We're friends. We've always been friends. Nothing that's happened in the past weeks could change that. You've been there for me when I needed a friend – when I needed support."

She stopped, and looked down on the ground. He supposed she was remembering the day he'd brought her to the doctor to get her throat looked at. It'd marked an odd turning point for him – he'd been kinda happy afterwards, that he'd said the things he'd said, and then sung that song to her. It'd been liberating, in a way. And for a few days he'd thought he had a real chance at winning her back – things had looked up, they'd talked more, she'd been responsive to his attempts at making her feel better. But when Jesse had come back he'd realised that all it'd done was that it'd pushed their friendship to a different level – one that made it even more awkward to talk to her outside Glee rehearsals because now she knew how he felt and avoided any non-Glee related conversations.

He dared her to look back at him – and watched her bite her upper lip as some emotion played across her face that he couldn't quite fathom. But then her eyes met his again, much to his surprise, and what he saw in them shocked him more than a little.

"I've been a horrible friend to you, in return. Don't think I don't know that. But you've come to me in spite of that, and you have no idea how much that means to me."

He was drowning in her eyes. It was as if someone had pulled a curtain aside – all the misery, all the pain, all the detachment he'd seen in them ever since he'd broken up with her was gone. He didn't know exactly what it was that had replaced it, but the knot in his heart seemed to want to untwist in its presence.

"Rach-" he tried again, this time worry edging into his voice. What he could read in her eyes made him light-headed with hope, but this couldn't happen now. He needed her, but not if it would give her more pain.

"Finn!" she responded, her voice sounding a little exasperated. As she tried to pierce through his fears, she'd come to think the problem was that he didn't trust her anymore. Which might have been warranted enough, since he'd caught her at her lies, but he had to know she hadn't lied to hurt him.

_But you're lying to him now. You've lied to him all this time__, just like you're lying to yourself - and it's hurt him, and you. Look at him, and see what you've done. _

The realisation hit her like a bolt of lightning to her heart.

He watched her as her expression froze. He was still looking into her eyes when they lost that spark that had been there seconds earlier. The curtain pulled close again – slammed shut. He dropped her gaze. As much as he'd felt light-headed before with the unspoken possibilities, as much as he'd been worried about it, it felt doubly painful now. For a moment he'd had hope again – and now it was gone. She'd guarded her heart against him – for whatever reason. What memory had brought it on?

And yet: as much as it hurt him that she had shut him out again – maybe he could tell her now without hurting her. That's what he really needed to – get the awful thing out there, into the open, try to get it to make some sense that he could be like that. She'd helped him make sense of his problems before. She'd proven that she knew him – probably better than he knew himself. Maybe he'd come to her knowing that she might be able to tell him if he was really the monster Kurt and his father seemed to think he was

Staring at her fingers still gripping his hands, he steeled himself, trying to find the right words. How could he begin? He dared not look at her again, kept his eyes on her hands that were equally frozen as her face had been before he'd looked away. She hadn't pulled them away yet, but it wouldn't be long before she did. He closed his eyes when she did, just a second later, slipping her fingers from his grasp on them. He took a deep breath, trying hard to keep his thoughts together. And with closed eyes and clenched hands he forced himself to begin.

"Rach… I los-"

He didn't get any further. Two hands suddenly gripped his shoulders, and he sensed her proximity a second before he opened his eyes and saw her there, right in front of him. But all he could truly see were her eyes, and they were full of an emotion he only got a glimpse of before she closed them and she got too close to be able to see anything clearly. His heart caught against his breath. And then Rachel's lips touched his, a whispered hint of a touch like a butterfly's caress before she pulled away again.

He opened his eyes and found her looking into his. His heart skipped a beat as he recognised the emotion burning in her eyes for what it was, and heard his own breath gasp and catch against her mouth, a rasping noise in the silence that suddenly surrounded them. All his fears, his worries, his problems wilted and died as she looked at him with such love that his heart seemed ready to burst out of his chest – everything else was forgotten, all that mattered was Rachel right in front of him, right inside his heart. And her eyes told him what to do.

Tentative at first, he leaned in closer against her as she knelt on the ground right before him; he closed his eyes again, his lips brushing against hers, afraid of feeling them pull away even if she'd been the one who had started the kiss. His hands came up, blindly, softly touching her face, his fingers brushing over the soft skin of her cheeks until he cupped her face in his hands – and then he kissed her, hungrily, greedily, not ever wanting it to stop. He'd kissed her before, but never like this – they'd always been rushed, flawed.

His hands held her face so tenderly, his kisses seemed so desperate, that she didn't know whether he'd realised yet that she was crying. The tears were running down her cheeks, along his fingers; she couldn't even say herself when she'd begun to cry. She was holding on to him, needing him so desperately - not like the need for air, but like a dying man needed a second chance. That's what she felt like – with every moment they kissed, he was saving her, releasing her from this chaos she'd felt in her own heart.

He became aware of her tears only when his lips tasted salty moisture on hers. Startled, he broke the kiss, looked at her, afraid that he'd involuntarily hurt her again in some way. But her eyes held the same wonder he felt, the same tenderness – and yet she was crying.

For a moment she looked right into his eyes. She could see the fear in them again – fear that he'd done something wrong, that he'd hurt her. He didn't know yet that he couldn't ever hurt her again, if only he'd stay true to what she saw in his own eyes. So she smiled; a slow smile, filled with reassurance. "I love you," she whispered against his open mouth, and closed her eyes. "I've been such a fool, Finn – I thought I could push you out of my heart, but it's always been yours."

His heart beating fast and loud like a drum roll in his chest, he stared at her, trying to take in every small detail. He was so overcome by this sudden change in his fortune that he kept expecting her to disappear like a soap bubble between his hands. But she hadn't yet – and she'd just told her she loved him.

Everything else meant nothing anymore. All the hurt, all the pain, all the confusion – all the anger and bitterness and disappointment of that day vanished with just those three words coming out of her mouth. They were suddenly so insignificant. She'd help him sort out all this mess, make it right again – if she'd found it in her heart to forgive him for his mistakes, then it was all going to be okay.

He leaned in again, kissed her face, up the trail her tears had taken – kissing them away ever so gently. Down again on the other side, he kissed her soft skin until he met her lips again. Gently, oh so softly he traced her upper lip with the warm wet tip of his tongue. He felt more than heard her gasp in surprise. Felt his body react to that.

He'd already messed it up once. He wasn't going to let it ruin another moment like that. Pulling away from her lips, removing his hands from her face, he put his arms around her instead and pulled her close. Her arms snaked around his back, held him as close as he held her. "I love you too, Rachel," he whispered into her ear. At last, he was at peace.

All done! Hope you enjoyed it! As I said, this was originally intended to go a bit differently – the story was born out of my disgust for the whole scene between Finn, Burt and Kurt, and was going to pretty much help set Finn's mind at ease, but I guess Rachel found a better way to do that than with a lot of words.

Leave a review if you liked it (or not)!

Adieu!


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